


Mall Wound Up

by AJtheBlueJay



Category: Darkwing Duck (Cartoon 1991), Disney Duck Universe
Genre: Bisexual Male Character, Blow Jobs, Body Worship, Bottomless, Erotica, Fantasizing, Fitting room, Fluff and Smut, Groping, M/M, Orgasm, Pantsless, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Semi-Public Sex, Shopping Malls, bulge, crotch grab
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:13:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24458761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AJtheBlueJay/pseuds/AJtheBlueJay
Summary: A simple trip to the mall becomes much, much more when Drake can't stop thinking about Launchpad's lack of pants.Featured comic by duckbutts69 (Twitter: @duckbutts69)
Relationships: Drake Mallard/Launchpad McQuack
Comments: 19
Kudos: 82





	Mall Wound Up

**Author's Note:**

> Yup, another one about the glories of pantsless LP. I don't care. The world needs this hunk of a man. I wrote this for my new friend duckbutts, who then drew me a tantalizing comic to go with it. Thank you, duckbutts, and I hope y'all enjoy@

What was supposed to be a fun day out at the mall was quickly unraveling for poor Drake Mallard. No, nothing was going awry. The sun was shining. The birds were chirping. There was nary a villain to be found that day. You could say it was all in his head, and what a something it was in his head.

Both Drake and his partner Launchpad had decided that this would be an opportune day to spend a day at the mall and update their wardrobe. Plus, one could never have too many purple double-breasted jackets and teal turtlenecks when their main hustle was being the terror that flaps in the night.

There was one particular hitch, though. One singular factor that had Drake’s mind going a million miles an hour and his stomach smoldering and doing back flips.

It occurred before they left the house. The weather was particularly hot that day, so Drake had subsisted on a simple blue t-shirt. He was plopped on the couch, watching the midday news and waiting for Launchpad. “C’mon, L.P.! We’re wasting the day away!” he called up the stairwell from his vantage point of comfort.

“Comin’, D.W.!” Launchpad called back.

“So is Christmas…” mumbled Drake as he returned his gaze to the TV.

A few minutes later, he heard the telltale creaking of the stairs and turned to look. Launchpad descended wearing his favorite green ballcap, a tight maroon tank top and...no pants.

Something in Drake’s brain snapped, as it always did when he saw Launchpad like this. It wasn’t often that Launchpad participated in this optional choice that Drake always did, but when he did, Drake would find that it ruled his every thought.

Drake gulped. “Er, going pantsless today, are we?”

“It’s super hot today, D.W. I need the extra airflow or I sweat like a dog,” said Launchpad, shrugging.

_ That’s not the only thing that’s super hot, _ Drake thought, then shook his head.  _ No. I’m going to keep my composure and this will be a normal day like any other. _ “R-right. Shall we?”

It was not a normal day. Drake sure tried his best to distract himself from his carnal thoughts as he picked out a few more pieces of Darkwing apparel and even some fetching sweater vests. But every time he’d glance away from his mental blinders, he’d see Launchpad, bent over, skimming through a rack of Hawaiian shirts or leather jackets, or whatnot.

The tank top was extremely form-fitting, easily showing the outlines of his shoulder blades and the tapering of his back. When Drake was blessed with a view of Launchpad’s front, he’d notice his bulbous pecs and how each abdominal muscle drew a little attention to itself but not too much, just like L.P. in a way.

But that wasn’t what made heat pool in Drake’s belly. That wasn’t what had stoked his lustful fire and left him silent on their car ride over. It was everything below the waist that truly unraveled Drake.

It was the smooth orange skin of his calves, usually covered by the boots he always liked to wear. How the skin was layered with gorgeous white feathers up to his luscious, thick, meaty thighs. His firm rump, not too cheeky yet still enough to make the right people stare. The tail that sat on his waist above the glutes, soft and fluffed, his curled drake feather only visible if you looked at the right angle. 

But all that paled in comparison to the crown jewel. The one sight that Drake could not be rid of- Launchpad’s crotch. The dense layering of bushy feathers and its slight plumpness forming a modest, yet intoxicating triangle between the pilot’s legs that left Drake tipsy every time. And only he knew its hidden secrets, the delicious girth that was hidden inside, covered by his feather coat.

It took everything inside him to will it away and focus on the tasks at hand, but it kept coming back, and every now and again, Drake’s perfect facade would crack. It happened when Launchpad snapped in his face, yanking him out of the daydream he had lost himself in. It happened when Drake absentmindedly said yes to Launchpad, then only later found out that he had approved a luxurious leather jacket too steep for either of their wallets. And it happened when Drake looked in a mirror and imagined L.P. standing next to him, dancing teasingly and he grew red as a tomato.

Drake didn’t know how much more he could take while still remaining a functional, wholesome member of society.

The breaking point came when he was invited into a fitting room with Launchpad, who shut the door and locked it behind them. Drake was alone with the object of his love and lust, and found himself freezing upon the bench he sat on. He watched Launchpad pull his tank top over himself and off, leaving his back in full view. Drake’s vision blurred at the edges and he absentmindedly licked his lips. Launchpad then slowly buttoned up a plaid shirt, the colors of which Drake couldn’t pay attention to no matter how hard he tried. All he saw was Launchpad’s hips cocking to the side, his tail swaying along, and a hand resting on his gorgeous thigh. 

He then turned around. “Whaddaya think, D.W.? Does it fit okay?”

Drake blinked. His legs were crossed, hands pulling up on his knees, rocking slightly. The pink around his cheeks was quite pronounced as well. Launchpad briefly wondered if his partner was catching ill. They usually kept these department stores pretty chilly for whatever reason. “Uh, what’s the matter? You’ve been pretty quiet all day. Somethin’ botherin’ ya?”

_ Oh, I’m bothered, alright. _ Drake’s mind was reeling with all kinds of horny thoughts. His belly felt like it was being consumed by his desires. Cold sweat pooled on his brow, failing miserably to cool him down. The only thing keeping his own crotch from swelling was the firm fact that they were in public and that was not the right place for that. But even that too started to falter. 

Drake felt himself eek out an audible whimper as he struggled to put words to his feelings or to even back out of this subject altogether. But the thoughts would not adhere. Instead, his body acted for him. He rose up and strode over to Launchpad. Launchpad looked briefly confused, then startled as Drake put his hands on his pecs and shoved him against the wall.

“What’s goin’ on?” he exclaimed.

Drake, suddenly mortified at what he had done, sighed. “Look,” he whispered, “I can’t beat around your bush- gah!  _ The _ bush, anymore. You being pantsless is driving me absolutely hogwild! I can’t take it! I’ve tried but it’s all I’ve been thinking about all day!”

Launchpad got quiet, tensing between the hard wall and Drake’s position on him. “R-really?” he stammered. “Uh, y-ya don’t like it?”

“L.P., no. I love it. I love how beautiful it makes you. I love how free and open it makes you.” Drake held a beat of silence for dramatic emphasis, and to gather his courage for what he was about to say. “I love how hot it makes you.”

Launchpad blushed. “Really? Y-ya think it makes me hot?”

“Hotter than you already are, which is saying something.” From then on, Drake’s upstanding mind left the party, leaving only his animalistic fire to take over. 

He grasped Launchpad’s arms and lifted the muscled appendages up over his head. “Keep those there, if you know what’s good for ya,” he breathed.

“D.W., w-we’re in the mall…” Launchpad whispered, chuckling nervously.

“Please,” Drake pleaded. “I need this. Be quiet and I’ll make it worth your while, here and at home.”

Adrenaline rushed through the both of them. This could go wrong so many different ways, but they were at the point of no return.

Drake decided to make a bold move to try and convince his large boyfriend. With a smirk, he placed one hand on Launchpad’s pec, and used the other to firmly grab his crotch. Launchpad gasped through his nose, eyes widening. Drake felt the soft, plentiful feathers contact his hand and he grinned. This is what he wanted. This, right here. Open, visible, all for him. He adjusted his hand, making sure as much of the tasty mass was in his hand, and he squeezed, causing Launchpad to bite his lower lip.

With a shaky breath, he sighed, “...okay. L-let’s do it.”

Drake smiled tenderly. “Thank you.”

Licking his lips, he began rubbing at Launchpad’s most intimate area, which was already starting to swell under his hand. He massaged where he knew the prize would emerge with his palm, while he allowed his fingertips to tickle along Launchpad’s taint, brushing against the sensitive skin under the finer feathers there.

Launchpad kept a firm grip on his bottom lip with his teeth, determined not to make a sound, despite all that Drake was doing to him. Heat was growing in his torso as well, and he felt himself start to sweat.

Drake continued to work L.P.’s groin tenderly as he slowly unbuttoned the shirt his sexy pilot was trying on. He put his other hand to work on massaging L.P.’s bulging pecs and he smiled when L.P. sucked air in sharply through his nose once more.

Speaking of bulging, that’s the state the pilot’s crotch was in now, a delicious molehill of a mass under Drake’s hand. Better yet, his penis had finally emerged from its slit, poking Drake’s palm. This was it. It was time to plunge for the buried treasure.

He further encouraged it out with his fingertips as he got down on one knee. Soon it was at full mast, average length, tapering, and quite girthy. Drake kissed the tip and exhaled hot air around it. It twitched at the attention it received

Launchpad hummed low and quiet. The desire was consuming him too, and he would soon be driven insane if Drake didn’t do what he would right then and there.

Luckily, Drake was always one to please, and he received L.P.’s message loud and clear merely through the hungry look he gave him. “I’ll know when you’re close. Just enjoy the ride.”

He grasped Launchpad at his base and took the tip in his beak. His tongue worked it in circles, spongy slick working the hard, heated cock.

Launchpad pressed his head against the wall and crossed one leg behind the other. His breathing increased as Drake blew him between his lips.

Drake could feel L.P.’s cock leaking fluid onto his tongue, drop by drop. It tasted yeasty and substantial, like home. Sighing, he put his hands on Launchpad’s rear and started bobbing on the entire length.

Launchpad whimpered, battling fiercely to not let out a thick moan as Drake blew him like no one else ever had.

Drake stopped briefly just to give Launchpad some dirty talk as he pumped his slick cock with his hand. “I love the way your ass looks and that fluffy tail of yours,” he whispered, soft and serene, “I love those meaty thighs. I think about me grinding on those tender feathers. I love seeing your juicy, juicy crotch, how it draws attention to itself. And I love how big you are underneath that lump.”

Launchpad hissed as Drake’s thumb brushed his tip, which sent surges of hot pleasure through his cock and up to his spine. “I’m not gonna last...much longer…” he breathed.

“Better get what you  _ came _ for, then,” he smirked. He returned the dick to his beak and sucked it vigorously, careful to keep the slurping sounds to an absolute minimum. Launchpad rolled his hips hungrily into Drake’s mouth as his breathing peaked. His cock twitched and pulsed and Drake knew that he was extremely close. 

He squeezed L.P.’s ass and bobbed once...twice...three times…

Launchpad gritted his teeth and exhaled sharply, sucking air in just as quickly as he crossed his threshold.

Drake lapped up all the hot cum surging out of L.P.’s cock and sucked it down, eliminating the evidence of their naughty excursion. He continued bobbing, coaxing every last glob of love out of the pumping appendage. This was what he needed to cure him, and it was glorious.

Drake stopped when the cock’s pulsating finally diminished, and giving Launchpad a satisfied smile, he pulled out. His lips were like a squeegee, wiping every last bit of unwanted substance off and down Drake’s throat, leaving no trace on the softening organ. “Thank you, L.P.,” he whispered, rising up and hugging his partner. “I really needed that.”

“No problem, D.W. I enjoyed it too,” he said, wrapping his arms around the smaller duck.

“Gonna make no pants a habit?”

“I think I will.” He broke the hug and gave Drake a quick peck on the cheek. He then gestured to his crotch, which was already decent again, not revealing that anything untoward had just happened in this fitting room. “Public sex, on the other hand…”

He gave Drake a knowing look, and when he blushed back and returned the look, they both knew the end of that sentence.

The plaid shirt, however, would definitely be coming home with them.


End file.
